


You're All I Wanted (And All I Ever Need)

by Skylar_Lois



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1423960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar_Lois/pseuds/Skylar_Lois
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Olicity prompts posted on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Is that my shirt?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olicity prompt: "Is that my shirt?"

Oliver traces indistinguishable patterns on Felicity's thigh just below the hem of her red evening dress. They are on the way back to Felicity's townhouse in the limo after a fundraiser. He trails his fingers higher, disappearing just beneath the hem of her dress, enjoying her gasp, the increase in her breathing and the warning glance she throws him. She doesn't move his hand away or tell him to stop.   
  
His eyes are darker, more sensual as he rakes her over, his gaze pausing at her lips, the teasing neckline of her dress and her legs. He leans down to whisper in her ear. "When we get home, I'm going to lay you out out on my desk. You're going to spread your legs for me and I'm going to make you come with just my fingers." His fingers disappear even higher beneath her dress, causing her breathing to hitch before he trails them to her inner thigh.   
  
"How many fingers do you think I'll use, hmm?" he murmurs, his breath tickling the shell of her ear.   
  
Suddenly incapable of speech, she holds up two fingers.   
  
Oliver shakes his head and nips the shell of her ear. "You've felt my cock inside you, Felicity. You know that two fingers are a poor representation for it. Perhaps you need another demonstration."   
  
 _Yes, please_.   
  
Oliver chuckles and she realizes she's said it aloud. "All in good time," he whispers. "I'll use three fingers, baby. I'll need to stretch you out properly because you're so tight. You fit so snugly around my cock, did you know that? I'll pump my fingers in and out of you while my thumb circles your clit."   
  
Felicity's eyes are half-closed as she pictures it, her breaths louder and faster. She'd be embarrassed if she cared. She shifts on the leather seat of the car, squeezing her legs together to provide some relief for the ache she is starting to feel between her legs.   
  
Oliver pries her legs apart with his other hand—not enough to look obscene, but wide enough that his fingers can continue their sweet torture—giving her a warning glance, shaking his head. "Can you feel my fingers sliding in and out of you? Can you feel my thumb stroking your clit?" He moves his free hand to clamp over her mouth just as she lets out a soft moan. "Shhh," he murmurs. "You wouldn't want Digg to find out what we're doing back here, would you?"   
  
He watches as her eyes widen, having forgotten that Diggle is in the car. She shakes her head and he feels her bite her lip, a pretty pink blush appearing on her cheeks. Suddenly intrigued, he leans back down to her ear. "You're thinking about it aren't you? About Digg watching me pleasure you? Does that turn you on?"  
  
She lets out another moan against his hand, her legs shaking with the effort of trying not to clench them together. _Jesus. Maybe public sex isn't entirely off the menu in the near future_.   
  
He releases his hand from over her mouth. "After you come, I am going to fuck you. _Hard_."   
  
She gasps. He presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, hiding his wicked grin. His fingers continue their teasing pattern up her inner thigh, just grazing her panties but never giving her the attention she craves.   
  
"You won't be able to walk properly for days after I'm done with you, baby." He trails a finger from her lips down her chin, throat, stopping just at the top of her cleavage. "Every time you walk, you're going to feel the ache between your legs and remember who made you feel that way."  
  
Her eyes roll back into her head. "Oliver," she rasps, her hand finding his pants leg and gripping it tightly. "Please—"  
  
He returns his mouth to her ear. "You're wet now, aren't you? If it weren't for these panties you're wearing, you'd be dripping down your leg." He captures her lips with his just as he strokes a finger up the length of her slit. Her panties are soaked. He growls into her mouth and she returns a more feminine version of her own.  
  
"Jeez, I do not want to see the two of you get it on in the back seat of the car," Diggle yells from behind the wheel. "We're here, so get your asses out. Go, go, go."  
  
Felicity lets out an uncontrollable giggle at his words and Oliver gives her a salacious smirk. Diggle stares after them in confusion as they hurry out of the back seat and up the front porch steps.   
  
She digs for her keys in her purse as Oliver waits impatiently by her side. She fishes them out after a tense moment, fumbling with the keys until she finds the right one. The moment the door is unlocked, Oliver lifts her off the ground with one hand around her waist and carries her into the house, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot.   
  
He sets her down on the floor and she wastes no time in dropping her purse and keys on the floor, grabbing the lapels of his tux and pulling him to her for a kiss. He lets out a guttural sound which she swallows. He claims her mouth, demanding and aggressive, coaxing moans from her. He thrusts his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers and exploring all the secret places.  
  
Felicity tears away from him breathlessly and he kisses a trail down her jawline and down her throat. She tilts her head upward to give him better access. He skims his nose along her collarbone before nipping at the skin where it meets her throat, sucking at it hard. She lets out a gasp at the sensation.   
  
He breaks away, taking a moment to catch his breath while he caresses her cheek. She reaches up to undo his tie and toss it aside then undoing the top button. She cocks her head, looking at him appreciatively.   
  
"What is it?" he asks, his mouth twisting in amusement.  
  
"You look really hot like this. Not that there's ever a time where you don't look hot, because you always do." She flushes. "You just look even hotter when you're dressed like this."  
  
He smirks at her, tracing the little hickey he left at the base of her neck. "Let down your hair," he says softly.   
  
She pulls the pins out of her hair, letting it fall down in loose waves over her shoulders and back. His breath hitches. He traces her lips with his thumb. "Do you have any idea how alluring you look right now?"   
  
He swoops down and claims her lips again, not giving her a chance to respond. She arches into him, her hand snaking to the back of his neck to hold him in place while her other hand grasps the lapel of his jacket.   
  
"You've been teasing me all night," he accuses, tearing away from her.   
  
"I didn't—"  
  
"You in that little dress and the dip of the neckline—" his eyes roam down her body with carnal appreciation. He meets her eyes. "I believe I promised you a few things, Miss Smoak, starting with fucking you over my desk." He makes quick work of her zipper, sliding the straps off her shoulders. The dress falls to the floor and he holds her hand while she steps out of it. "Leave your shoes on," he murmurs.  
  
She pushes his jacket off his shoulders and starts unbuttoning his dress shirt, her fingers fumbling in her haste to get it off. She tugs his shirt down his arms, but they get stuck at his wrists. She yanks on it harder, clenching her jaw. "Why won't this come off?" she says through gritted teeth.   
  
"Cufflinks," he says with a laugh. He reaches down to undo them. "You're really eager, aren't you?"  
  
She pauses her task to glare at him. "After what you did to me in the car? Definitely."  
  
"I didn't hear you complaining, baby," he smirks. He tosses his shirt on the floor and lifts her up easily, hiking one of her legs over his hip. She wraps the other around his hip as well.   
  
She levels him a gaze before sliding down a little until his hard length—straining against the material of his dress pants—is pressed against her core. She grinds against him, the friction and pressure helping to relieve the ache between her legs. Her eyes roll back into her head and she bites her lip to stifle her moan. He lets out a curse, thrusts against her once before smacking her ass.   
  
He walks them both to his study, haphazardly clearing his desk before laying her on the cool wooden surface, spreading her legs for him. He dives in to kiss her throat while his hand trails down her body to her breast, kneading it through her green satin bra. He kisses a path down her throat to her chest, moving to suck on one nipple through her bra.   
  
"Do you know how sexy you look? Laid down on my desk, dressed in nothing but my color and waiting for me to do as I please with you?"   
  
He yanks the cups of the bra down so that they rest just below her breasts and focuses his attention on them, kneading, licking and sucking. She threads her fingers through his hair at the back of his head and holds him there. She writhes beneath him, wanting—no—needing more friction between her legs.  
  
He traces her calf with a hand, trailing his fingers up her knee and thigh, and finally stopping at the edge of her green lace panties. She writhes impatiently again, trying to get him to continue. He chuckles against her skin. Felicity tugs his hair hard and he groans, giving her nipple one last tug with his teeth before releasing her.  
  
"Get on with it," she growls at him.   
  
"You're a bossy little thing, aren't you?" He wrenches the flimsy material to the side and strokes a finger up her slit. Her head falls back to the table as she releases a moan. She bites down on her lip to stifle it when he does it again. He tugs her bottom lip from between her teeth. "I want to hear you."   
  
He slowly inserts a finger inside her, sucking in a breath as he watches it disappear into her. She lets out a loud moan, arching off the table. "You're so wet, baby," he rasps in wonder. So wet, slick and hot.   
  
He pumps the finger in and out of her for a few moments before adding a second, hearing her cries increase in volume. His free hand tugs at her panties, annoyed that it's hampering his administrations. He yanks at it harder and she opens her eyes to glare at him.   
  
"Don't you dare—"  
  
He rips them anyway, tossing the scrap of material somewhere behind him. "I'll buy you new ones," he promises, bending down to kiss her as he thrusts his fingers harder into her. She arches into him, crying out into his mouth. Her hands grip his arms, mint green nails digging into them. He slows his fingers, breaking the kiss to look at her. She wiggles her hips, trying to coax his fingers to move faster.   
  
"More," she pleads. "Harder, faster."  
  
"Say my name. Say my name and I'll give you what you want."  
  
"Oliver," she says breathlessly, and he thrusts his fingers hard into her, his thumb circling her clit. "God, yes!" she cries out.  
  
"My name is not 'God'. It's _Oliver_." He gives her a particularly hard thrust when he says his name.   
  
"Oliver, Oliver, Oliver..." she chants his name breathlessly with every thrust. He adds a third finger, stretching her out and pumping them faster. He feels her beginning to tighten and curls his fingers in her, finding her g-spot. She lets out a strangled moan.   
  
"Here?" He repeats the action and she cries out loudly. "Come for me, baby."  
  
She clenches on his fingers, letting out a silent scream as she comes. He continues to stroke her, prolonging her orgasm as he helps her to ride it out. She relaxes back on the desk breathlessly as she comes down from her high. He removes his fingers gently from her and catching her gaze before sliding them into his mouth.   
  
"You taste so good on my fingers," he says as he licks them clean. "Wanna taste?"   
  
She flushes a little, biting her lip before nodding. He grins wickedly before sliding a finger into her, pumping it a few times. She lets out a soft moan at the sensation. Her muscles clench his finger every time he slides out of her, and it's almost enough to make him lose control. He pulls his finger out and traces it along her lip.   
  
"Suck," he orders.   
  
She opens her mouth and fellates his finger, sucking on it like she does his cock, swirling her tongue around the tip as she licks it clean. She keeps her eyes on him, holding his gaze as she sucks, humming in pleasure at her own taste. She watches as his mouth falls open, his breaths getting more shallow and his eyes darken even further with lust. He lets out a guttural sound in his throat when she grazes her teeth along his finger as she slides it out of her mouth.   
  
He pulls his finger out, narrowing his eyes at her smug look and starts undoing his belt buckle, fumbling a little in his haste to get it off. He yanks the belt out of the loops, tossing it aside and makes quick work of his pants, kicking it and his shoes off.   
  
Felicity stills him when he starts to remove his boxers. She reaches in to stroke his hard length a few times before he moves his hand away impatiently. He peels his boxers off and strokes her thighs before pulling her to the edge of his desk. He straightens one leg, resting it against his chest, her black stiletto coming up next to his ear.   
  
He slides the length of his cock against her slit, coating the top with her wetness. " _Fuck_ ," he hisses at the feeling. She writhes against him, trying to get him to slip inside her when the tip of his cock rubs against her opening. He doesn't allow it to happen, fully intending to have her beg for it, even if it means he might spontaneously combust from having to control himself. His fingers dig into her hips, stilling them on the desk as he repeats the action over and over again.   
  
" _Please_ , Oliver," she says when she finally can't take it any more. "Please, _fuck me_."   
  
She gasps when he wraps an arm around her waist, lifting her easily from the desk and carrying her to the nearest wall. He presses her back to it, lines himself up and thrusts inside to the hilt in one hard stroke. His fingers dig into her hips as he pounds into her hard and fast with all the pent up frustration of the last few hours. she cries out with every thrust, her nails digging into his back, her heels at his ass.   
  
He leans in to bite her neck as he fucks her hard. On one particularly hard thrust, she cries out his name loudly.   
  
"That's it, baby. _Take_. _My_. _Cock_." He punctuates each word with a hard jab. Her head falls back against the wall and she starts to tighten again. He reaches a hand down to stroke her clit.   
  
That's all it takes to push her over the edge. She shouts his name, clenching hard on his cock as she comes. He thrusts twice more before holding her still as he releases deep inside her. His head falls onto her shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.   
  
He sets her down on the floor after pulling out but keeps his hand around her, supporting her weight. He smiles at her, leaning down to place a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. "I love you," he whispers against them.   
  
She returns his smile shyly. "I love you too."   
  
An hour later, they're cuddling in bed, Felicity lying on his side of the bed with her head on his chest.   
  
"Come with me tomorrow," he murmurs, his fingers rubbing soothing patterns on her back.   
  
"You know I can't," she replies sleepily.   
  
"Yes, you can. I don't give a fuck about what Isabel thinks. You're my EA," he reminds her. "I need you there."  
  
He is bound for Russia the next day, a three day business trip with the QC subsidiaries in Moscow.   
  
"She'll think we're just using the corporate jet for a weekend of fun now that we have gone public with our relationship. Besides, you don't actually need me around. I color-coded everything that you need for the meeting and I can fax you whatever else you may need," she mumbles. "But I doubt it. I had lots of time to go through all the material while you were training with Digg and Sara in the foundry the other day. On the off chance that I did miss something out though, you can just email or call me." She props her chin up on his chest and looks at him with half-closed eyes and a drowsy smile. "You'll survive three days without me."  
  
He huffs before pulling her up against him to plant a kiss at the corner of her mouth. He tucks her head into the crook of his shoulder before reaching out to turn out the bed side light.   
  
"Goodnight, Felicity," he whispers.   
  
"Goodnight, Oliver," she hums, drifting off to sleep.   
  


* * *

  
  
Oliver wakes before the alarm sounds in the morning. He carefully extricates himself without waking her and pads over to the table beside her bed to switch the alarm off, not wanting her to wake before he leaves. If she does, he knows there's a 90% chance that he'll drag her off to Russia with him.   
  
He gets dressed quickly before leaving her a note on his pillow to explain his absence. He leans down over her and kisses her forehead softly. "I'll miss you," he whispers.   
  
He crosses the room and looks at her one last time. His eyes pass over the laundry hamper sitting in the corner of the room and he spots her MIT shirt from her freshman orientation sitting in it. An idea forms in his head. He goes over and swipes it from the hamper before he can think about how weird it is—possibly bordering on creepy—and stuffs it into his bag for the trip.   
  


* * *

 

  
"Where the hell is it?" Felicity mutters in frustration to herself as she digs in her closet for her favorite oversized grey MIT shirt.   
  
It's Sunday, one day after Oliver left for his business trip and she's planning on spending the day lazing around in her favorite shirt and catching up on her favorite shows that she missed during her nights fighting crime with Team Arrow.  
  
She has an episode of Supernatural ready and waiting on her DVR to be played only to realize that she simply cannot find her shirt. She can always wear another shirt, of course, it's not that big of a deal, but she could have sworn that the shirt was sitting in her hamper waiting to be washed two days before and she doesn't remember it being there when she did the laundry yesterday.   
  
She gives up after searching around for half an hour and coming up empty, settling for throwing on one of Oliver's shirts instead, seriously considering setting up a surveillance system outside her house.   
  


* * *

  
  
Felicity beams at Oliver when his face appears on her computer screen. He's never liked Skype, but phone calls and text messages just isn't cutting it for him.   
  
He looks tired, she notices. He's wearing one of his shirts from work and his tie is skewed to one side, the top button undone.   
  
"Long day at work?" she says sympathetically. She traces the screen where his face is. He cocks her head and gives her a knowing smile, as if he knows exactly what she's doing.   
  
"I'm miserable here without you," he pouts. "Long meetings without you there to distract me from their droning." He shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about me. I want to hear about you. How's your day?"  
  
She tells him about how she hacked into the Wayne Enterprises security system just for the fun of it, the dogs she saw at the dog shelter up on 8th Avenue and how she really wants to adopt one of them and about the shows she managed to catch up on.   
  
"Speaking of which, I think someone broke in and entered my house," she huffs in annoyance.  
  
Oliver sits up straighter. " _What?_ Are you okay? I knew I should have dragged you along to Moscow with me," he mutters. "I'm taking the first flight back to Starling City."  
  
"There's no need to," she reassures him hastily. "I'm fine. Actually, I don't even know if I was actually burglarized, seeing that all I'm missing is my grey MIT shirt. None of the valuables were taken. It probably isn't a burglar," she reasons. "What kind of burglar would leave all the state of the art computers and steal my favorite shirt from the laundry hamper? And the alarm wasn't tripped or disabled since you left. I checked earlier. None of the other theories I have make sense."   
  
She doesn't notice how he stiffens in his chair when she mentions the shirt before shifting uncomfortably.  
  
He clears his throat. "You mentioned adopting a dog earlier. Which one did you say you're interested in?" he changes the subject not-so-subtly. Thankfully for him, Felicity doesn't notice.   
  


* * *

  
  
Oliver steps into the house, drops his bags by the door after shutting it and sets the keys down in the dish on the table next to it.   
  
Felicity comes out of her bedroom dressed in panda pajamas and rushes straight into his waiting arms. "You're home!" she says into his chest, her words coming out muffled. She breathes in his scent—he smells like sandalwood, soap and spicy apples from his cologne.   
  
He inhales the scent of her strawberry shampoo, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to her forehead. "I missed you," he says softly.   
  
She tightens her arms around his middle. "I missed you too."   
  
He lifts her up with a hand under her knees, catching her lips in an aggressive kiss as he walks her to the shower, spending the next two hours showing her just how much he missed her.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Is that my shirt?"   
  
Oliver freezes, his hand halfway to his suitcase. He looks guiltily at his girlfriend who's staring at him with narrowed eyes. She crosses the floor to him and snatches up a grey shirt from the bag. The words MIT are written boldly across the front. She looks at him accusingly.   
  
"I can explain," he says hastily.   
  
She arches an eyebrow as if to say " _go ahead_ ".   
  
"I didn't want to be thousands of miles away from you without anything that reminds me of you with me," he mutters petulantly, his words ending with a pout. "That shirt smells of you," he adds. "I know it sounds creepy, but..." he trails off, not sure what to say next.   
  
Her gaze softens. She climbs into his lap, her arms around his neck, fingers trailing up into his hair, still damp from the shower.  
  
"Hey," she says softly.  
  
"Hmm?" He doesn't meet her eyes.  
  
She tips his chin upward, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Next time, just ask. I'll gladly give it to you." She shrugs. "Saves me all the trouble of searching high and low for it too."   
  
He gives her a sheepish grin. "I am sorry about that." He looks searchingly into her eyes. "Still mad at me?"  
  
She pretends to think about it. He dips his head to nip her collarbone playfully. She chuckles, helpless to it. She stands, reaching a hand out to pull him off the floor and leads him to her bedroom.   
  
That, more than anything, let him know that everything is all right between them. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olicity + Bruce Wayne — "Are you even listening to yourself?"

Bored. That's what Oliver Queen is after an hour of mingling at the annual Business Party hosted by Queen Consolidated in one of the luxury hotels in Starling City. He starts to wish for something that needs his attention, preferably in his green hood, but it looks like the bad guys are taking a break this evening.

He looks around for Felicity, realizing that he hasn't seen her for quite sometime after she excused herself earlier to get a drink. It takes him a while to spot her over the mass of people in the ballroom. He sees that she's standing near the refreshment table, leaning in close to a distinguished looking man as they speak. He narrows his eyes when he recognizes the man. _Bruce Wayne_.

He's crossing the ballroom to get to her before he's aware of it, the fake smile he had plastered on his face for the entire evening replaced by a tightly clenched jaw and a frown. He sees red when Felicity throws her head back in a laugh at something Bruce whispers in her ear.

It is not without effort that he rearranges his expression into a polite smile and raises his hand to shake Bruce's, interrupting their exchange. He places a hand low on her back, just above the curve of her ass.

Bruce shakes his hand firmly. "M.r. Queen," he says in greeting. "Your smile looks a little painful there," he adds with a little smirk.

Felicity turns to look at her boss. "Did something happen?"

"Everything's fine," Oliver says a little unconvincingly, trying not to react visibly to Bruce's little jibe.

Felicity narrows her eyes at him but chooses to take his words at face value. "M.r. Wayne was just telling me about the newly opened wing in Wayne Industries."

"Please," Bruce says, touching a hand to her arm just above the crook of her elbow, "call me Bruce."

"I'm sure that's fascinating news," Oliver says in a tone that clearly indicates he doesn't think so at all, "but I need to speak with Miss Smoak for a moment."

"Of course," Bruce says politely. He steps forward to place a kiss on Felicity's cheek. "I'll see you later then, Felicity. It was nice meeting you, Queen." He smirks again.

"Laters, Bruce," Felicity replies with a smile, her cheeks flushed.

Oliver only just manages not to throttle the man. "Likewise," he lies through gritted teeth. Then he takes Felicity's hand and practically drags her out of the ballroom to a shadowy alcove.

"What is wrong with you?" she says, snatching her hand away from his grasp. "You're acting really strangely tonight."

"What's going on with you and Wayne? Do you like him?"

Felicity looks at him curiously and shrugs. "Sure. What's not to like? He's a billionaire, he's dashing and really, really charming, has a company with state-of-the-art technology breakthroughs every so often, oh, and he just asked me to work for him."

"He _what_?"

"He offered me the position of the head of the IT department," she adds cheerfully, oblivious to his growing fury and irritation.

"And what did you say in response to that?"

Felicity raises an eyebrow. "What do you think? I turned him down, of course, which was easier than I thought it'd be, considering the position and the salary he was offering. I already have a stable job, a home and friends I love here in Starling City. As attractive his offer is, I didn't want to have to start all over again in Gotham."

Oliver exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Good," he says, slightly mollified. "I don't want you talking to him. Just stick close to me until the event ends."

"Excuse me?"

"Wayne's an asshole," he scowls. "I don't want you going anywhere near him tonight. Or ever. He was pushing all sorts of boundaries with you earlier with all the arm touching and cheek kissing."

She frowns. "Are you even listening to yourself? You sound like a jealous boyfriend."

He scoffs. "I am not jealous of that prick."

"Well, whatever your problem is with him, that's none of my concern. He's been nothing but polite and charming to me all evening. You may be my boss at QC and my partner for our extracurricular activities—excuse how dirty that sounds—but you don't get to tell me who I can or cannot talk to," she points out.

She stalks away in the direction of the ballroom. Except that she never gets there. He catches up with her in three long strides and snatches her wrist. "I don't like it when you talk to him. I don't like it when you laugh at something he says like the sun's shining out of his ass and I hate it when he's trying to charm the pants off you."

She cocks her head at him. "Why does it bother you so much?"

He huffs, shaking his head like she'll just never understand. He pulls her to him, tangles his fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck and swoops down to claim her mouth in a searing kiss. She gasps against his lips before kissing him back, matching his fervor. They part after a while, both breathless and flushed from the kiss.

"That's why, Felicity Smoak."

Oh. _Oh_.

"Want to get out of here?"

She shakes her head. "I should get back to Bruce."

His mouth falls open, flabbergasted. " _What?_ "

She sniggers. "You should have seen your face!" She takes his hand, fingers intertwining with his. She cocks her head with a shy smile. "Let's get out of here then, M.r. Queen." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> — Skylar


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity having cramps, Oliver taking care of her.

  
Oliver arrives at Felicity's town house during his lunch break on a Monday afternoon. He's been worrying about her all morning seeing that she didn't arrive at work, nor did she reply her text messages, emails or phone calls. She's usually quick to respond unless something happened...  
  
Pushing his worry to the back of his mind, he takes the stairs two at a time and takes the spare key from under the flower pot to open the door. He steps in warily, surveying his surroundings. Nothing looks out of place.   
  
He hears a groan coming from upstairs. _Felicity_.   
  
He flies up the steps and kicks the door to her bedroom open. There's blood on the sheets. _Shit!_    
  
"Felicity?"   
  
He hears another groan from the bathroom. Rushing over and pushing the door open, he finds her next to the sink, curled up into a ball on the floor, her arms wrapped around her middle. She looks up at him before squeezing her eyes shut. "What are you doing here?" she asks weakly.  
  
He kneels down on the floor next to her. "Where are you hurt?" And without waiting for an answer, he gathers her into his arms carefully and lifts her off the floor. "I'm taking you to the hospital."  
  
Her brows furrow. "What? Why?" Her hand reaches up to clutch his shirt tightly.   
  
"You're injured. I saw the blood on the bed," he says in a tone that indicates she should already know this, and the fact that she doesn't is worrying.   
  
"Oliver, stop," she says in her loud voice, which doesn't have quite the impact it's supposed to have. It comes out more agonized than stern, but it still has the desired effect since he stops in his tracks, frowning at her. "I'm not injured. But hurting, yes, definitely. _Absolutely_ hurting. It should be illegal for this to hurt so much," she mutters.   
  
He shakes his head. "Hospital," he says and starts walking again.  
  
"Oliver! It would be ridiculous to go to the hospital just because Aunt Flo came," she says dryly. "And unexpectedly too, which explains the blood on the bed."   
  
He stops walking, utterly confused. "What does your aunt have to do with this?"   
  
Felicity huffs in exasperation. _Does this man not have a little sister?_ "Cramps, Oliver. I have cramps because of my period."   
  
Oh. _Oh_. He flushes. _Talk about awkward_.   
  
"Shall I set you down on the bed then?" he asks.   
  
"Please." She squeezes her eyes shut at how mortifying this whole situation is.   
  
He carries her back to the bedroom and lays her down on the side without the blood stain.  
  
"Did you take any advil?"   
  
She shakes her head as she curls up on the bed, hugging her pillow to herself. "I ran out," she mumbles miserably.   
  
"I'm a bit out of my depth here," he admits, looking a little lost. "Is there anything that'll make you feel better?"   
  
"Can you get me my hot water bottle please? It's in one of the drawers over there," she gestures at the dressing table at the end of the room.   
  
He crosses over quickly and starts searching through the drawers. It just so happens that the first one he chooses to check is her underwear drawer. He shoves it shut with more force than necessary. He finds the hot water bottle on his second try.   
  
"I'll go prepare it," he says as he walks out of the room.   
  
He returns a few minutes later and hands it to her.   
  
"Thank you," she says gratefully, taking it from him and laying it on her abdomen.   
  
"Stay here. I'll be right back," he brushes the back of his hand up her cheek.   
  
"Sure. Where else would I go?" she responds without opening her eyes.   
  
He drives to the nearest drugstore and finds the Advil easily enough. He puts 2 bottles in his shopping basket. Next, he heads to the feminine products aisle, feeling a little conspicuous seeing that the rest of the customers there are well... _female_.   
  
 _Why the fuck are there so many different products?_ he wonders to himself as he stares at the shelf. He notices that there are products for light, normal and heavy flow. _Wings? What on earth? And how many sanitary pads does a woman need when she's bleeding anyway?_ His first instinct is to call her and ask, but that'll just be too awkward a conversation.  
  
He notices that people are starting to stare at him. Rolling his eyes, he wonders how long before someone sells a photo of him in the feminine products aisle to TMZ. He snorts. _At least this time it'll be something new._    
  
He quickly puts a few of each type into his basket and throws in a Tampax box as well for good measure. Then he high tails out of dodge.   
  
•  
  
"Hey," he says as he enters her room holding a tray of hot chicken soup and a roll of bread. Felicity moves into a sitting position and plops her pillows up behind her.   
  
He sets the tray down on her legs, grabs the two advil he placed on her bedside table earlier and hands it to her with a glass of water.   
  
"Are you feeling better?" he asks. Her lips are a little paler than usual and she still looks miserable.   
  
"A little," she says. "Thank you."   
  
"Here, drink some of this while it's hot. I figured something warm in your tummy will make you feel a little better."   
  
She takes a sip of the soup and nibbles a slice of bread, humming in pleasure at the taste.   
  
"Good?"   
  
She nods. "It's the best chicken soup I've ever tasted."   
  
"I know," he says a little smugly.   
  
She raises an eyebrow. "You made this?"   
  
He scoffs. "I'm a terrible cook. Nah, Raisa made it this morning. I had her warm it up and brought it over in a thermos flask. She makes the best chicken soup in the whole world."  
  
She smiles. It's the first smile he's seen on her since he arrived at her place. His heart gives a little flip and he feels all warm and fuzzy inside for some reason. Then he sees her frown at something behind him. He turns around and sees all the shopping bags he left by her bedroom door earlier.   
  
"What's all that?" she asks curiously.  
  
He rubs the back of his neck. "It's uh... some feminine products. I picked them up while I was at the drugstore."  
  
She frowns. "Why are there so many bags?"   
  
"I wasn't sure which type to buy," he says sheepishly. "So I bought some of everything."   
  
Felicity gapes at him for a moment. Then she bursts out laughing. She presses the hot water bottle to her abdomen, the awful cramps she's feeling no match for the uncontrollable laughter bubbling up in her.   
  
He stares at her, bemused.   
  
"I'm sorry," she says when she finally regains control of herself and grimaces. "Oh it feels so good to laugh. Not because it was at your expense. Okay, well, maybe just a little," she holds up her thumb and index finger. "But mostly because I've been feeling so miserable all morning and I didn't think I was going to laugh or smile again any time soon. And then you show up here, nearly bring me to the hospital because I'm having horrible cramps and then return with ten bags filled with sanitary pads—" she bites her lip to stop herself from laughing again. She cocks her head. "You really went to the feminine products aisle?"   
  
He looks affronted. "Of course I did."   
  
"I thought maybe you asked a female to help you get the stuff," she shrugs.  
  
"Well," he levels her a look, "it's not something I'm in a hurry to experience again, but it wasn't so bad." He takes the tray away, setting it on the table. "Are your cramps always this bad?"   
  
"Oh, you have no idea, Mr. Queen," she shakes her head curling up on the bed again.   
  
"Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?" he says sympathetically.   
  
She looks up at him. "Yes, there is, actually. Cuddle with me."   
  
He climbs into bed with her without hesitation and allows her to rearrange them both until she's in a comfortable position. Her head is resting on his chest and he has an arm around her, holding her to him.   
  
"Let me know if this helps," he murmurs, shifting her hot water bottle aside and massaging the area. He feels her slowly relax under his administrations. She hums against his chest.  
  
"Thank you, Oliver," she says softly.   
  
He smiles and kisses the top of her head. "You're welcome," he whispers. "Go to sleep. I'll take care of you."   
  
She knows he will. She drifts off to sleep, the last sound she hears is the sound of his heart thumping against her ear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw this prompt on tumblr and decided to write my take on it. Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
> 
> XOXO, Skylar


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy + Olicity: "That stays between us."

"There are two guards headed in your direction," Diggle's voice comes over the comms unit.

  
Felicity gets a little worried when Roy flexes his muscles next to her. "Use the tranq gun, Roy. Not your fists," she reminds him warily.

  
Roy frowns at her. "I know. You don't have to keep reminding me every time Digg tells us there's a guard approaching."

   
She worries her lip and doesn't relax until Roy shoots both guards with the gun. He cocks an eyebrow at her.

  
She scowls at him. "How am I supposed to know you won't suddenly go into 'super soldier' mode? I have no idea what sets you off. Speaking of which, you will tell me if you're starting to lose control, right? Will you be able to tell me? Or do you just slip into your alter-ego like _that_?" she snaps her fingers to demonstrate. 

Roy rolls his eyes at her and throws his hand over her mouth. "Have you never been on a field mission? You're supposed to be stealthy and quiet for these things. Not chatty and loud." 

She blinks at him. He sighs and drops his hand, taking her wrist, pulling her along with him as they make their way to the twenty-fifth floor. 

"Three guards rounding the corner," Digg warns when they emerge from the stairway. 

Roy turns toward the corner on the left and Felicity the right. The guards round the corner on the right side and Felicity takes down two in quick succession while Roy gets the third. He sees Felicity gaping at the sleeping guards in shock. 

"Never shot anyone before?" he guesses. 

"Never," she confirms. "Never touched a gun before today either." She looks down at the gun she's holding and then shrugs. "It's good to know that I have such wicked aim though." 

"Lucky you," he scowls, remembering all the practice sessions in the foundry. He couldn't hit a target to save his life for months. "Let's get to the server room." 

Felicity puts the gun away and checks her tablet. "It's right at the end of this hallway."

They break into a run and she swipes a card she managed to program and enters the code into the keypad beside the door. The door unlocks with a click. 

"Bingo," she says and they step in. Felicity quickly gets to work, plugging her tablet into the mainframe and starts to download all the files. 

"Everything going okay?" Oliver's voice comes over the comms. 

"Roy's got his alter-ego under control—" she breaks off to meet Roy's glare. "What? Don't glare at me like that. I'm just saying as it is," she shrugs. "Oh and I'm 10 percent on the download," she adds cheerfully to Oliver. "How's your party?"

"Let's just say I'd rather be in my work clothes now," he says. "Keep me posted and I'll go over if you need me." 

"I think we've got it covered here," she laughs. "Enjoy your party." She hears him grumble incoherently but does as he's told and goes radio silent. 

"There are five guards headed your way," Diggle warns them after a few minutes. 

"I'm not done yet on the download," she says a little anxiously, looking at Roy. 

"I'll take care of them," he reassures her and heads for the door. 

"Roy—"

"Tranq them, I know," he finishes for her. "Have a little faith." 

"It's not that. Take my gun. You only have one dart left in yours." 

Roy looks at her in surprise. "Oh." He takes the gun from her and exits the room. 

She alternates between watching the door and the download progress bar on her tablet, getting more and more anxious with each passing minute when Roy doesn't return. "Yes!" she says triumphantly, fist pumping the air like she did during the Merlyn job. She quickly unplugs her tablet, shoves it into her bag and moves toward the door. She touches her earpiece. "Roy? Where are you?" she whispers. 

The door opens. Felicity leaps back, her free hand flying to her chest in surprise.

Roy raises an eyebrow and stifles his amusement. "It's just me." 

She glares at him. "Let's get out of here."

"Great work, guys. I'll go get the car," Diggle tells them as he makes his way out of the building from the security room. 

Roy and Felicity make it down the emergency stairs without a hitch. Right before they open the door leading to the lobby however, Roy seizes her wrist. 

"What is it?" 

"Two men heading toward us," he whispers, turning to look at the wall.

"Do you have X-ray vision?" Felicity gapes at him. "I thought—"

He snorts. " _What?_ No. The mirakuru gives me a heightened sense of hearing. Just stay behind me. I won't let them touch you." 

"Roy—"

"We're out of tranq darts," he reminds her. "So unless you're saying you'd rather be hauled off to jail—"

"Shut up!" she snaps at him. She exhales a breath. "I'm really sorry for this." 

He frowns, utterly confused. It deepens when she snakes a hand to the back of his neck. She uses his confusion to his advantage, yanking his head down and firmly presses her lips to his. He starts to push her away, but then she places her hand on his chest, her fingers searching for something—

She finds his nipple and twists it through his shirt. _Hard._ He lets out an agonized sound low in his throat before releasing an expletive against her lips, which are moving against his, coaxing him to kiss her back. His lips, which are hard and unyielding against hers, soften after a beat. He wraps an arm around her waist, drawing her closer. They are really getting into it when the door to the emergency stairs bursts open. 

They disentangle themselves from each other hastily, turning to look at the intruders. 

"What are you kids doing here?" one of the guards asks, narrowing his eyes at them.

Felicity bristles at the term and starts to take a step forward, but Roy throws an arm out in front of her. "Isn't it obvious?" he raises an eyebrow.

"How did you even get in? The security alarm is activated." 

"Maybe your alarm isn't as effective as you think, seeing how it didn't even trigger when we snuck in here." 

The guard takes offense to his tone, but his partner scoffs. "They're just kids, Danforth. Let 'em go." 

"Thank you," Roy says in a rather polite tone before snatching Felicity's arm and dragging her out of the building. 

"Those smarmy little asshats! You should have let me—"

"Let you what? Knee them in the balls?" Roy piques, looking at her in amusement. "Believe me, blondie, I would have loved to see you try." 

"They called us ' _kids_ '!" 

Roy shrugs. "It doesn't bother me." 

She lets out an exasperated noise and turns away from him. "Oh look, Digg's here."

"Felicity, wait." He reaches up to pluck her earpiece from her ear and removes his as well. "What happened back there," he gestures somewhere behind him, "that stays between us." 

"What? Oh. The kiss." 

He nods, staring at his feet. "Yes, that." 

"Of course."

There's an awkward silence before they meet each other's eyes. Roy quickly looks away again and clears his throat. "We should go." 

* * *

  
"What is up with the two of you?" Diggle looks from Roy to Felicity and back again.

"What do you mean?" Felicity says, staring determinedly at her computer screens. They just got back to the foundry not long ago, Oliver arriving shortly after them. 

"You went out there bickering and now you can barely look each other in the eye," he points out.

Oliver raises his eyebrows, suddenly interested in the conversation. He looks up from his arrows to stare at them both.

Felicity spins around in her chair, quickly meets Roy's gaze and turns to look at Diggle. "There. We made eye contact."

"Did something happen out there?" Oliver asks.

"No," they answer together. Felicity cringes. 

Oliver raises an eyebrow and gives Diggle a look. "Speaking of odd things, you managed to get out of there remarkably quickly. It sounded as if the guards just let you waltz out of there." 

"We got lucky," Felicity shrugs, trying to appear blasé. 

Even Diggle cocks an eyebrow at that. 

Roy rolls his eyes. "I charmed our way out of there, okay?" 

Diggle scoffs. 

"Haven't you met me? I can be extremely charming when I need to be," he says, affronted. 

"You're hiding something," Oliver narrows his eyes. "Both of you." 

"And you're making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be," Felicity says in exasperation, turning back to her monitors. 

"Are we?" 

"Oh, just stop," Roy throws his hands up in the air. "We kissed. See? Not that big of a deal." 

"You _what_?" Oliver frowns at them. Diggle just shakes his head in amusement. 

" _Roy!_ " Felicity snaps. "What happened to 'that stays between us'?" 

"They were never going to let it go!" he points out. His eyes widen when he sees Oliver's expression. If looks could kill, he knows that he'd be lying on the floor dead by now. He points at Felicity. "She forced herself on me!" He rubs his chest through his shirt where Felicity had abused his nipple. It still hurts. 

" _What?_ " Oliver looks at Felicity accusingly. 

"I couldn't let him go all mirakuru rage on those two guards, could I? It was the best alternative given what I had to work with—and I don't mean because he's such a good kisser—" she throws a hand over her mouth, horrified. "I didn't mean to say that." It does not escape her notice that Roy suddenly looks a little smug. She narrows her eyes, flushing before waving her hand dismissively. "Anyway, we got out of there quickly and without hurting anyone. That's all that matters." 

She meets Oliver's gaze and realizes that he looks furious. She frowns at him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" he can't keep the anger out of his tone.

"Like I did something wrong." She scoffs. "And it's not as if you have any right to be angry at me about what happened."

"Excuse me?"

"All right," Diggle hops off the table he's sitting on and takes ahold of Roy's shoulder. "It's time for us to get out." 

Roy doesn't argue. He's all too happy to put as much distance as possible between him and Oliver's angry face. 

Felicity waits until they're out of earshot before jabbing her fingers at Oliver's chest. "You have no right at all to get upset over the fact that I kissed Roy. It was for a mission. Not because I'm attracted to him or anything. Not to say he isn't attractive, because he is, but he's in love with your sister so..."

He looks even angrier than he was before she started speaking. "Kissing him wasn't the only alternative." 

"Yes, it wasn't, but it was the first one I thought of," she shrugs. 

"I don't want you kissing him. Or anyone else, even if it's for a mission."

"Then do something about it," she challenges. 

Filled with determination, he strides over to her, pulls her to him and kisses her. She gasps against his lips. His lips are ardent as he takes her mouth, his tongue sweeping across her bottom lip before sliding into her mouth and meeting hers. His hand moves to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair, holding her in place while he ravages her mouth. 

She wrenches away from him, gasping for air. She finds her arms around his neck, but she doesn't remember how they got there. "That wasn't what I meant," she says breathlessly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I know," he grins wickedly and shrugs, unrepentant. He kisses her again, this time without the urgency from before. It's soft, lingering and sweet. His palms cradle her face, thumbs tracing her cheekbones.   
"Go out with me," he says softly. 

She cocks her head. "Like on a date?" she clarifies. 

He lets out a laugh, then curls a finger and nudges the top of her nose with it. "Yes, Miss Smoak. Go out on a date with me." 

She considers this for a moment before scoffing and shaking her head. 

"Is that a... no?" Oliver asks her hesitantly, stinging a little from the rejection. He masks the hurt and takes a step back from her.

"No, it wasn't a 'no'. I was just thinking..."

He exhales in relief. "About?' he prompts, swallowing his nervousness. He doesn't know what it is about her, but he feels as if he's a teen again, asking a girl out on a date for the first time.

"If I had known that making out with Roy Harper would have pushed you to do something about us—" she gestures between them—"I would have done it sooner."

He lets out a growl, pulls her flush against him and claims her lips again. It's a kiss that leaves her breathless and wanting and makes her legs weak. 

"What was that for?" she asks when she can finally speak again.

"To remove the memory of his lips on yours." He says it as if it's the most obvious thing.

She throws her head back in a laugh before shaking her head. _Men_ , she scoffs internally.

"I'll take it that you're going out with me then?"

She cocks her head and takes a moment to stare at the beautiful man who's in her arms. She leans in to brush the tip of her nose against his before moving her lips to his ear. "Yes, Oliver Jonas Queen. I'll go out with you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy sees a lipstick stain on Oliver's shirt and gets angry when he refuses to wipe it off before Felicity sees it.

"Is that... _lipstick_ on your collar?" Roy asks incredulously, staring at the collar of Oliver's white dress shirt.

Oliver tosses his suit jacket over the back of Felicity's chair in the foundry before turning to look at Roy. "Hmm?" he asks distractedly, dipping his chin down to look at his collar. There's a faint red mark on the inner collar of his shirt. "Yeah, it does look like lipstick."

He picks up his bow and arrows, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Roy is still staring at him.

"Well?" Roy prompts when Oliver refuses to acknowledge him.

"Well what?"

Roy makes a frustrated sound in his throat, and starts to think that maybe Oliver's daft. "Aren't you going to wipe it off?"

Oliver turns to look at him, frowning in confusion. "Why would I do that?"

"So that Felicity won't see it!"

Oliver looks even more bewildered. "I don't think she'll be bothered by it."

Roy gapes at him. "You don't think—" He shakes his head in disbelief. "Look, I know that the two of you aren't _together_ together yet, but she likes you. A lot. And despite how you act, I know you like her too. She will get hurt if she finds out that you've been with someone else."

Oliver scoffs, turning around in his chair, returning his attention to his arrows. "She won't be hurt over this."

Roy sees red. He strides over to the other man and grabs fistfuls of his shirt, yanking him up and off the chair. "You're an asshole. I don't know what the hell she sees in you, because despite your vigilante-ing, you're still the billionaire playboy everyone knows you are. How you choose to live your life is your business, but if you hurt her, I swear I _will_ kick your ass, no matter how many arrows you aim at me."

"You like her," Oliver says, not the slightest bit perturbed by the threat.

"Of course I like her," he retorts. "She's like the sister I never had. I'm warning you, Queen. One wrong move and I'll—"

"What's going on?"

The two men turn to look in the direction of the stairs. Felicity is staring at both of them, her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed in confusion.

Roy lets go of Oliver's shirt and steps back.

"Nothing," Oliver says smoothly. "Roy was just being... Roy."

Roy gapes at him again. "Seriously?" Turning to Felicity, he says, "He was with another woman."

He expects Oliver to look guilty, but is utterly surprised when he sees the man's lips curl upward in amusement.

"Oh?" Felicity says, dropping her purse onto her chair before turning to look at Oliver, raising her eyebrow at him.

"There's a lipstick stain on his collar," Roy says, and suddenly feels like a little kid tattling on a sibling. _What the hell?_

"Really?" She's grinning now, her eyes filled with amusement.

Roy narrows his eyes at her. "You're not mad? Or upset?" _Maybe it was from some sort of swingers party_ , he reasons. _Maybe they're into that sort of thing_. He isn't surprised that Oliver might be into that, but sweet innocent Felicity?

Oliver bursts out laughing. He goes over to Felicity and bends down, kissing her softly at the corner of her mouth before tugging her against his side.

Still smiling, Felicity shakes her head. "Nope, I'm not mad or upset." She shrugs. "After all, I'm the one who left it there."

"She's territorial like that," Oliver shrugs.

Roy blinks at them. "Wait. Are you two—"

" _Together_ together?" Oliver finishes, nodding.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" he demands hotly, glaring at them both.

"And miss out on this?" Felicity gestures vaguely between them.

Roy scowls, not liking in the least that they're having fun at his expense. He starts storming up the stairs, muttering under his breath.

"Roy?" Felicity calls.

"What?" he snarls, looking at her from over his shoulder.

She plucks an earpiece from her ear, and he realizes that she's heard the entire conversation between him and Oliver.

"You're like the little brother I never had too."

He huffs. "Yeah, whatever." He continues up the stairs, though noticeably less disgruntled than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you love this one as much as I did writing it! I love writing Roy with Olicity. Probably will have a couple more short ones coming up soon! :)


	6. Vampire!Oliver and Vampire Hunter!Felicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire!Oliver and vampire hunter!Felicity

Felicity climbs the stairs to her townhouse in the dead of the night, tripping on the top stair in her distraction. She digs in her pocket of her black leather pants for her keys and fumbles with it when inserting it into the lock, dropping it onto the floor twice before managing to unlock the door because her hands are shaking.

It's not until the door is securely locked behind her that she allows herself to remember what happened that night. She looks down at her hands which are still trembling with the realization of what she has done.

She remembers how she wielded the crossbow, how she pulled the trigger and shot him—

She lets out a sound that's in between a horrified gasp and a cry. _How could I have done that? How could I... with my own bare hands..._  

There's a flicker of movement in her peripheral. She already knows who it is before she looks up. 

Oliver is standing in her living room and staring at her, as if he's been there all along. There is an arrow lodged in his chest, just millimeters from his heart. She stares, wide eyed and horrified at the wound on his chest; the injury she put there. She came so close to killing him. 

"Is that where I...?" she trails off, unable to finish the sentence. She meets his eyes for a split second before returning her gaze back to the arrow sticking out of his chest. 

"Hey," he says, taking a step toward her, and it's not without effort that he keeps from grimacing at the pain. "It's nothing."

"No," she says firmly. "No, it's not." She closes the distance between them and takes his hand by his wrist, leading him over to her white leather couch and sitting him down on it. She feels the tears at the back of her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. Not yet. 

Straddling his thighs, she places a palm on his chest right next to the arrow embedded in it and the other around the shaft. "This is going to hurt," she warns him.

"I know." He keeps his eyes fixed on her.

She grits her teeth, exhaling a breath. Then, she yanks the arrow out of him, flinching when he lets out an agonized yell. She drops the arrow and applies pressure to the wound with her hands.

"You're bleeding," she tells him, bordering on panic.

"I don't need to be told that." The corners of his lips curl upward despite the pain he's in.

She doesn't appear to have heard him. The tears that are brimming in her eyes spill over, dripping onto his shirt.

"Hey," he murmurs, putting his hand over hers, waiting until she meets his gaze. He smiles reassuringly at her. "I heal fast. Vampire, remember?"

"I did this to you. I shot you. Your blood is on my hands."

He grins wryly. "I can see that." 

She chokes back a sob, increasing the pressure she's applying on his wound. He sees the self-abhorrence and guilt in her eyes and only just realizes the depth of what she's feeling right now. God dammit, he's such an ass.

He grasps her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Felicity," he says softly. "If you didn't do what you did, I wouldn't be here right now. I'm still alive and it's because of you."

She looks at him like he's lost his mind. "I _shot_ you. With a crossbow. _I_ pulled the trigger."

"You _saved_ me," he corrects.

She sniffles. "The arrow was millimeters from your heart. If I'd missed—"

"But you _didn't_ ," he points out. "I trust you."

She shakes her head. "You shouldn't."

He shrugs. "But I do. I never had any doubt in your abilities. I knew you wouldn't miss."

"I could have. So easily. If I'd just raised my hand a little—"

"None of that," he snaps, glaring at her now.

She nods. "That's right. You should be angry with me."

He makes an exasperated noise in his throat. "I'd shake some sense into you right now if I could. All right. Tell me. Why did you shoot me?"

"Because I'm a horrible girlfriend," she says immediately.

He waves a hand impatiently. "No. Why _did_ you shoot me? Why not let Diggle do it?"

Now she really thinks he's lost his mind. "Because you'd be a pile of ash right now if he did! I didn't have a choice. If I didn't do it, Diggle would have done it, and he wouldn't miss."

He brushes her hands away from his chest and sits up. The bleeding has stopped and the pain has disappeared. Cupping her face tenderly, he strokes his thumbs over her cheek bones, wiping the tears away.

"See? Your subconscious already knows it, even if your conscious mind refuses to accept it. How could I ever hate you for doing what you needed to to save me?"  A couple of tears fall from her eyes, and he brushes them away. "I love you, my sweet, beautiful little girl."

She cannot resist the smile tugging at her lips no matter how hard she tries. "I'm not _little_ ," she reminds him. "I'm nearly twenty-four."

"And I'm nearly two hundred and twelve. That makes you little." 

She notices that he looks tired. She moves her hair to one side of her shoulder and tilts her head, giving him access to her throat. 

He frowns, his brows furrowing. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm offering you my blood."

"No."

She frowns. "You don't need to be a gentleman right now. You just lost a lot of blood. Two pints, from the looks of it and you need more. So, don't stand on ceremony and just bite me. _Now_."

" _No_ ," he snaps. "I'm not drinking your blood."

"Why not? I'm a hunter, not a normal human being. I'll have you know, my blood replenishes at thrice the rate of an ordinary human and I heard it tastes better too."

"No," he says again, and she knows from his tone and the set of his jaw that this is not something he's ever going to budge on. 

"Blood bag?" she asks.

He snorts. "I'll be fine, Felicity. I just need some rest."

"Okay." She gets off his thighs so that he can get into a more comfortable position on her couch. 

"Sit," he tells her, patting the couch.

So she does.

He arranges himself so that he's lying on the couch with his head in her lap. She runs her fingers through his hair and he shuts his eyes, humming at the feeling. 

"Oliver?" she whispers. It's barely audible, but she knows that he can hear her.

"Hmm?" he murmurs, leaning into her touch.

"I love you too." 


	7. Olicity + Felicity Wearing Roy's Red Hoodie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olicity + Felicity wearing Roy's red hoodie. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Roy and Felicity burst through the doors of the foundry, entirely soaked from the heavy downpour.

Teeth chattering and shoes squeaking, they descend the stairs, Felicity gripping onto the railing for dear life as her heels are slippery from the rain. Roy grabs her hand by the wrist and helps her down the stairs.

" _Jesus_ ," he says, setting the bag of takeout down on the table and rubbing his arms. "It's freezing down here."

Felicity kicks off her shoes and goes over to turn the heat up, leaving a trail of water on the floor behind her. "It shouldn't take long before this place is warm and toasty," she tells him. She stays as far away as possible away from her computers, choosing to huddle on the floor near the cot instead.

"Where are the extra clothes we keep down here for emergencies?" Roy asks, peeling off his wet clothing.

"Under the stairs," she says. "Check the bins."  He finds his black tank top and a pair of jeans in the bin labeled as his, dressing quickly before grabbing a muscle tee and a pair of yoga pants from hers and bringing them over to her.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her teeth are chattering too much to form any words.

"Go put these on. Don't worry, I won't peek."

She shakes her head. "Cameras," she manages to say on her third try.

"Right." He clears his throat awkwardly. "Upstairs then?"

She nods, folding her arms across her chest and heading upstairs to the bathroom.

Roy picks up his red hoodie and pulls it on quickly before settling down at the spot Felicity just vacated, rubbing his hands together to create some warmth.

She returns fifteen minutes later, her wet hair over one shoulder, hands rubbing her arms vigorously. Her teeth have stopped chattering, but she's still visibly shivering.

"Oliver and Digg not back yet?" she asks, sitting down next to him.

He shakes his head. "What took you so long?"

"Long line for the bathroom."

After a moment of watching her shiver beside him, he unzips his hoodie and shrugs it off, draping it around her shoulders.

"What about you?" she asks.

"I'll be fine," he reassures her. "Put it on. It's warm from my body heat."

She slides her arms through the sleeves eagerly, huddling into the warmth. She even throws the hood over her head because, well—her ears are cold. She stops shivering after a while. She turns to thank him, and then realizes that he's shivering because of her, though he's trying his best not to let it show, gritting his teeth and hugging his knees, but the tension in his shoulders are apparent.

Wordlessly, she shifts closer to him so that their bodies are pressed together, and she takes his arm and drapes it over her shoulders.

"Hug me," she tells him when he just stares at her uncomprehendingly.

He gapes at her. "W— _what_?"

She slides her arms around his middle, scooting even closer to him and tucking her head under the crook of his neck.

"Felicity, what are you doing?" He tries to squirm away from her, but his attempt is so half-hearted that she doesn't buy it.

"If you don't put your arms around me in the next five seconds, I'll return your hoodie to you," she warns. "Five."

He doesn't even hesitate. He wraps his arms around her, enveloping her in his warmth and exhaling deeply. She can feel him shivering beneath her touch, and it takes a while before he relaxed against her.

"You're so warm," she murmurs, her breathing slowing. 

"Hmm," he says softly, closing his eyes.

"And you're hard."

His eyes fly open. " _What?_ I'm _not_!" he sputters defensively.

"You are," she insists, patting his chest with one hand.

" _Oh_. You mean my chest," he realizes, relaxing in relief.

Her brows furrow in confusion. "Of course I meant your chest. I'm leaning against it. What did you think I was referring to?"

He sputters again, incoherently this time.

"Huh?" She shifts to look up at him.

"Nothing," he says firmly, clearing his throat, tucking her head back under his chin.

There's a period of comfortable silence between them, and he must've dozed off, because when he next opens his eyes, he's staring at the face of a _very_ pissed off Oliver Queen.

He blinks at him in surprise. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What are you doing?" Oliver asks, looking from Felicity to him and back again.

Roy looks down at the woman who's in his arms and back up at him. " _Oh._ Oh, this isn't what it looks like."

It clearly isn't the right thing to say, because it looks exactly like what it is. Oliver cocks an eyebrow, somehow looking even more angry than he was before. He's staring at Roy's arms which are still around her.

Roy follows his line of sight and drops his arms like he's been burned. Felicity mumbles something incomprehensible against his chest and hugs him even more tightly, not helping his situation in the slightest.

"We were caught in the rain," Roy starts explaining. "It was freezing and I was trying to help her get warm—" He breaks off, alarmed when Oliver takes a step toward them. "She hugged me first!" he says quickly.

Oliver shoots him a glare, rubbing his thumb and index finger together.

Roy swallows nervously. "Look, _nothing_ happened with your girlfriend, all right? In case you haven't noticed, I'm in love with your sister and I'd never do anything to hurt her."

"And the hoodie?"

"She was freezing her ass off. If you'd rather I let her shiver than for her to wear my hoodie, I'll keep that in mind for the next time something like this happens."

"Thank you for taking care of her," Oliver says grudgingly.

"No problem," Roy nods. "I care about her too, you know."

Oliver steps up to them and bends down, gathering Felicity against himself and picking her up effortlessly, setting her down onto the cot. Then, he unzips the offending red garment in one fluid motion, almost ripping the zipper from its seams. He tosses it to Roy who catches it, letting out an _oof_ when it thwacks him in the chest.

"I'll just go then, shall I?" Roy says.

Oliver ignores him.

"Okay then." He pulls on his hoodie which now smells like rain and strawberries and heads out of the foundry.

Oliver unzips his grey sweatshirt and drapes it around Felicity. She starts to stir, and he hugs her to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Go back to sleep, baby," he murmurs.

She hums, snuggling into his chest and murmuring his name, bringing a smile to his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so you guys are probably going to start noticing a pattern here. I just love writing Olicity and Roy, okay? ;P
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I loved writing it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> petrichorfalling said:  
> If you are accepting prompts at the moment, would you consider doing one over the new villian cupid somehow finding out The Arrow's Hacker and finding out about his feelings for Felicity and so she takes her as leverage to get him to bend to her will and you can end it how ever you want >.

Oliver steps into the abandoned warehouse at Fifth and Giffen, fingers flexing around his bow. Cupid's been leaving a trail of bodies, all of which are the criminals he caught and had Captain Lance lock up in Iron Heights. After finally managing to plant a trace on her when she left him a message declaring her love for him, he had Felicity run the tracer arrow program which led him straight here.

His favorite IT girl isn't on comms with him for once—he sent her off for her date with Ray once the tracer program was complete. ("Are you sure? Maybe I should stay here, keep an eye on things. Carrie Cutter is former special ops after all. You might need the back up. Not that I'll literally be your back up—I wouldn't be much use to you out in the field against your psycho stalker whose weapon of choice as of late is a bow and arrow with the tip shaped like a heart... Not particularly relevant now," she adds when she sees his expression.)

The rhythmic click of heels against the wooden floor has him whirling around and drawing his bow, pulling the bowstring taut. He sees Cupid smiling at him from the entrance to the warehouse, twirling the arrow he shot her with between her fingers. 

"You found me," she says proudly, not looking the slightest bit threatened by his weapon.

"Carrie Cutter," he says menacingly through his voice modulator. "You have failed this city."

His words and tone do not achieve the desired effect. She lets out a laugh that's almost maniacal, continuing to approach him. "Did you not like my present?"

"Do you mean Isaac Stanzler? The man you _killed_." 

"Oh, darling, don't be so upset. I was doing you a favor. You know Iron Heights has a poor track record when it comes to keeping prisoners inside. This city is better without him anyway."

"That isn't your call to make."

She scoffs. "It isn't as if you haven't killed before. I know everything about you... _Ollie_."

He almost gasps, an unpleasant chill going down his spine. _How did she—_

"Don't look so surprised. I did say that I know everything about you, from the man you are beneath the hood to _her_."

As if on cue, a bright light snaps on in the warehouse, illuminating the center of the previously dark room. After his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, he notices a blonde haired girl gagged and bound to a chair that is suspended halfway off the edge of the third floor landing, the only thing keeping the chair from falling is a very worn rope attached to a pulley on the ceiling. Felicity isn't struggling against the ropes securing her—she knows that with how thin the rope is, any movement on her part might cause it to snap. Her eyes are wide with fear, her breathing coming in short little gasps.

Oliver cuts his gaze back to the woman who calls herself Cupid. "Let. Her. Go." He's dangerously close to losing what little control he has over himself. "You're interested in me. She has nothing to do with this."

Carrie laughs again. "On the contrary, this has everything to do with her. Do you know when I fell in love with you, Ollie?"

He opens his mouth to respond, but she speaks before he can get a word out, not actually looking for one.

"Two weeks after you returned from Lian Yu, you came across what appeared to be a husband beating up his wife. You shot an arrow right into his chest. You thought you were saving me from an abusive man. You didn't know anything about me and yet, you cared. That's when I fell in love and I knew I'd do anything to make you feel the same way."

"Thought?"

Her lips curl upward. "Poor Henry. He wasn't abusive. Not in the slightest. He found out I was putting Arsenic into his dinner and tried to kill me for it. That's when you showed up." She takes another step toward him. And another. "That girl up there. You love her. You're so in love with her, you broke your 'no killing' rule to save her from Count Vertigo. That poses a problem. You can't love me if you're in love with her, and you're never going to stop loving her. Not unless she's out of the picture."

 _She's off her rocker_ , he realizes. _She's absolutely bat shit crazy_. "You're mistaken," he says aloud. "I'm not in love with her. I haven't been for a while now," he lies through his teeth.

"Really?" Her voice becomes sickeningly sweet and her whole demeanor changes. Her gaze softens, and she looks at him so hopefully, he actually feels a twinge of guilt.

Heart racing against his chest, he fights a triumphant smile. "Yes," he replies, lowering his bow to give her a false sense of security.

She grins. "Let's test that, shall we?" She pulls out a hand-held device with a big red button, her thumb moving to hover over it. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what that button does.

 _Oh, fuck no_. He raises his bow and shoots faster than he has ever before—

Only for Cupid to catch the green arrow easily. She drops it onto the floor, shaking her head in disappointment. "Liar, liar," she says. 

He draws his bow and takes aim again, ready to let another arrow fly and this time, he's not going to miss.

"I should probably tell you," she says casually, "I set this system up such that if anything happens to me, the rope on the pulley will slacken. It'll be such a shame for her to fall to her death, wouldn't it?"

"What do you want?" he says through gritted teeth.

Carrie blinks at him. "I already told you. I want you to love me."

Seeing no other way where Felicity can leave this place unscathed, he nods, lowering his bow. "All right. Let her go _unharmed_ and I'm yours."

Felicity widens her eyes in disbelief at this. She starts screaming through her gag, shaking her head and struggling against the rope. 

Oliver looks up at her in alarm. "Felicity, don't move!"

She continues to scream through her gag, but thankfully, ceases her movements.

"Listen to me," he says, reassuringly. "You're going to be okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

She rolls her eyes, and the tone of her shouts become frustrated.

Carrie cocks her head, caressing the button on her remote. "Don't keep me waiting, Ollie."

He returns his attention to her. "Give me your word that you'll let her go if I do as you say."

"You have my word," she says eagerly. Almost _too_ eagerly.

"Al right, then. Where do you want me?"

Cupid lets out a sardonic smile. "Wouldn't you like to know."

* * *

 

 _They've been gone for too long_. 

Felicity looks up at the only thing that's keeping her from plunging three stories to her possible death. She has two options—either sit still and wait for Carrie to free her (which to be honest the odds of that happening are slim to none) or to use the laws of physics to free herself. Both options have their risks. Very unfortunate and permanent risks. She picks option two. After all, she isn't one to sit and wait for someone to rescue her—not if she can do something about it.

Taking a deep breath, she uses all her strength to launch herself off the platform where the hind legs of the chair are resting on. The chair swings outward like a pendulum, and there is a horrifying moment where she's suspended by a rope to the ceiling with nothing but thirty feet of air between herself and the ground. 

The rope swings backward and snaps just as it is about to make another swing outward to complete its oscillation. She exhales a sigh of relief when her body collapses onto the floor.

"Oh, thank God." She hurriedly works to free herself from the chair, using the skills Diggle had taught her when it comes to getting out of restraints.

When she's finally standing, pushing the last of the frayed rope off of her arms, she goes off in search of her friend. 

* * *

 

"Tell me that you love me," Carrie demands, standing over a delirious Oliver Queen. He's cuffed to a black leather chair, his hood and mask off and he is sweating profusely as his body tries to expel all the unknown substances he's been injected with. His head is slumped forward, almost resting on his chest.

He looks up at her, seeing double of everything. "Never," he rasps, letting his head slump again.

She lets out a frustrated scream, raising the syringe again. It's filled with a new liquid, blue this time. "Tell me that you love _me_!" 

He lets out a snort. "It doesn't matter how many times you ask me or how many times you stick that fucking needle into my arm. The only woman I love is Felicity Smoak, and I will love her for the rest of my life."

Murderously enraged that things aren't going as planned, she sticks the syringe containing venom from a blue-ringed octopus into his arm. Before she can press the plunger, however, a hard knock across the back of her skull has her collapsing to the ground.

Not wanting to take the chance that Carrie is feigning, Felicity whacks her again in the back of her head with a rusty metal pipe she found nearby.

Satisfied that the mad woman isn't going to be waking any time soon, she rushes over to Oliver and cups his cheeks between her palms. "Oliver?" she says, coaxing him to focus on her. "Oliver, can you hear me?"

He meets her gaze for a short second before exhaling a puff of air and slipping his eyes shut. "You're not real. I won't say it. Felicity Smoak is the only woman I'm going to love. Even if you kill her, she's the _only_ woman for me for the rest of my life."

Her breath catches in her throat. She allows her heart to melt for just a second before shaking her head. She taps him lightly against one cheek. "Hey. Look at me."

When he doesn't respond, she repeats the action, willing herself not to give into fear and panic.

He grunts, focusing his gaze on her.

"Good. Keep your eyes on me, Oliver. Can you do that?"

He doesn't respond, but keeps his eyes on her. Satisfied, she frees him from the handcuffs and presses his palm to her cheek. 

"Feel that? It's me. I'm real. I'm standing right here."

"Felicity?" he asks.

She exhales a breath in relief. "Yes. Yes, it's me. Can you stand? You're such an idiot. How could you just give yourself over to that lunatic? If I hadn't gotten free, you'd be dead by now!" She helps him into a standing position, holding him to her and staggering beneath his weight. She tightens her arms around him and presses her face against his neck. "I'm so glad that you're okay. And by okay, I mean not dead, not _okay_ okay, because you're definitely _not_ okay. You're delirious and your pupils are dilated, and you've been poisoned with God knows what. Hospital. You need a hospital. Or the foundry, because you never go to the hospital. I just hope our new blood tester can help us figure out what you've been injected with while that tea of yours reduces its effects."

"It really is you," he says half in awe and half in disbelief, finally believing that it's her he has in his arms. He tries to work with her, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. "How did she manage to get you? What happened to your date with Ray?"

"I didn't go. I thought you might need my help even if you didn't think you did, so I turned back around and headed straight back to the foundry."

He looks at her in surprise. "You came back for me?"

She pauses, turning her head to frown at him. "Of course I did."

He gives her a look she doesn't want to analyze. Not right now, anyway. She pats his chest. "Come on. Let's go home."


End file.
